


the heart is a lonely hunter

by hufflepuff_kylo_ren



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Emo Kylo Ren, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, High School AU, Internalized Misogyny, Kylo is a drama queen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Unreliable Narrator, WIP, Yoda is a therapist, he's very sensitive, kylo is trans, kylo ren shops at hot topic, kylo wants to be a vegan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflepuff_kylo_ren/pseuds/hufflepuff_kylo_ren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo sulks through the usual trials and tribulations of being a high schooler with numbness and disdain, until one day, he's forced to actually feel something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the heart is a lonely hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on ff.net
> 
> title from the song The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by The Anniversary
> 
> This is kind of a different style than I'm used to, so please send me any constructive criticism!
> 
>  
> 
> Note: Kylo is an afab trans guy, and while that's not the main focus at all, it's still pretty important. I am not a trans* person, and thus have no personal first hand knowledge of what it's like to be trans*. I am trying to write a story about a trans* person, and not about their experience being trans* because it's not my place to do so. If anyone feels at anytime that I'm missing something or overstepping or doing something inappropriate, please let me know and give me some ideas of what I can do to fix it!

the heart is a lonely hunter

.

Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face

The kind you'd find on someone I could save…

My alarm blasts in my ear. Six am. Great, another Monday. Another week of this bullshit, waking up at the ass-crack of dawn, drudging through the halls of this bullshit they call "public school." Like, fuck that. I'm so over it. Honestly, what's the point?

Slowly, I sit up, blood-red comforter pooling around my hips. With a shuddering sigh, I run my hand through the dark, messy hair hanging in my face.

"Ben! Honey, are you up?" My mother yells from the other side of my bedroom door. Jesus.

"Mom, I'm already up! Didn't you just hear my alarm? It literally just went off." I can already tell this day is going to be great. Dramatically, I fall back onto the bed, bouncing slightly.

"I just wanted to make sure you were up. Don't be a little shit," she replies, not taking any attitude. Dad probably already pissed her off this morning. Or last night. Either way, note to self: don't fuck with mom today.

Today is the first day of the last week of school. My last week of my Junior year of high school. It's honestly hard to believe that this time next year, I'll probably know where I'll be going to college, what I'm doing with my future. Soon, I'm gonna actually have to apply to college, and think about my future. My parents definitely won't let me fuck around for much longer. Soon I'll have to be Serious Business™ like that smarmy little fuck Hux. His fucking face and his fucking attitude, like he thinks his pale ginger ass is actually better than everyone else just pisses me off.

It's pretty fucked that we used to be friends. Until he realized how unworthy and shit I actually am. That he was destined for Yale or Harvard or some shit while I would probably just wallow at our local community college for a couple semesters before dropping out and becoming the next store manager at fucking Walmart or some shit. I'll be stuck here forever at a nothing job, smoking shitty Marlboros behind the old Taco Bell with a bunch of fucked up high school dropouts. Fuck.

"Ben, seriously, get your ass out here and eat your damn breakfast." Mom's worried about me. She's always pretty fuckin worried about me, though. I'd almost feel bad, if I were capable of feeling anything right now. I should probably actually call Dr. Yoda pretty soon. Mom would be happy.

With a deep sigh, I roll out of bed, stumble to the door, and grunt at mom before slouching into the bathroom for a much needed shower. Showers are often the best part of my day. I can just stand under the blistering spray, close my eyes, and forget about the world. It's the most relaxing thing I can think of. Dr. Yoda told me to try yoga, but that's just so girly. Showers though, everyone needs to shower, even if I sometimes forget. Stepping under the hot water is an instant relief. This is what I really needed.

"BEN! What are you doing in there?! It's 6:45! Ben? Is everything okay…?" My mother's voice is jarring, brings me back to reality. Shit. I really lost track of time. More so than usual.

I quickly finish up and turn off the water, stepping onto the old, off-white shower mat. Fuck, it's humid and stifling in here. I definitely had the water too hot.

Luckily, my dad gave me his old car last year, so I don't have to worry about catching the bus. I'm about 90% public school buses were invented just to torture all the strange, weird, nerd, and ugly kids. No one actually likes riding the bus. Besides, the only people who still ride the bus in high school are losers, anyway. So it really is fuckin sweet that I can avoid that human cesspit.

The fact that my mother thinks I'm actually going to eat breakfast is pretty fucked as well. What teenager eats breakfast? Who in their right mind is hungry at such an ungodly hour?! Truly, breakfast is the worst meal of the day. Flavorless eggs, factory farmed from some poor chickens, kept in tiny cages, packed all in together with no room to live any kind of lives, burned white toast with old, crusty butter scraped across it in icky patches, lukewarm orange juice full of pulp (seriously, what are my parents thinking?), and a handful of old, squishy grapes. Jesus fuck, there is no way I would ever eat any of that shit. Like I'm not some sad old geriatric in an old person's home with nothing else to live for. Well, actually...I guess I'm not too far off.

Grabbing a granola bar, I yell a quick goodbye to my mom, slam the door, and get into my car. For a couple minutes I just sit there, staring absently at my neighbor's daffodils. For oft, when on my couch I lie/In vacant or in pensive mood/They flash upon that inward eye/Which is this bliss of solitude/And then my heart with pleasure fills/and dances with the daffodils.

Slowly, my eyes refocus and I sigh, starting the car, resigned to my fate. Off to another invaluable day of learning at New Republic High School. Hey, maybe today I'll make a friend, I think, laughing to myself as I drive.


End file.
